


The Great Journey

by Grundy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aman (Tolkien), Gen, Trouble? These four? Surely not, Young Elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: Little Artanis, Irissë, and Ambarussa are bored and looking for something to do on a summer's day.  Their idea may not meet with their elders' approval, however...
Relationships: Galadriel & Aredhel & Amras & Amrod
Comments: 20
Kudos: 36
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	The Great Journey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/gifts).



It was for once  _ not _ Artanis’ idea. Not that anyone would have believed it had she tried to tell them – as Artanis said with a sigh, sometimes it was easier for her to just be in trouble than try to convince the adults what had really happened.

“Tirion is so boooring at this time of year,” Ambarussa complained.

They were lounging around the gardens, trying their best to pretend they weren’t supposed to be elsewhere. The day was just the wrong side of warm to be comfortable inside, much less pay attention to their lessons.

They knew perfectly well that Rumil was just as pleased not to put up with them today as they were not to be cooped up in the schoolroom. Their tutor was nearing completion on his latest manuscript – this one a history of the Crossing of the Great Sea, which would be either totally thrilling or supremely uninteresting – thus finally getting the Eldar in his multi-work History from Cuiviénen to Valinor. As such, he was quite willing to overlook their absence on a day he knew he wouldn’t have even half of their collective attention in the first place.

Ambarussa had left their pets at home, because Rumil categorically would  _ not _ begin a lesson with animals in the room – a rule that had been instituted in Tyelko’s youth and not been lifted even though Rusco and Haro were much better behaved than any pet Tyelko ever had except Huan – so they were a bit grumpy about that, particularly now that lessons weren’t happening.

So far the only grownup to bother them – if you could call him that – was Irissë’s brother Aryo. He probably should have herded them back to their schoolroom, but instead had warned them not to let Grandmother or any of their parents catch them skiving. (Or Maitimo, who while he wouldn’t scold,  _ would _ chivvy them back inside, and probably take over their lesson when he discovered Rumil uninclined. The only consolation would be that he was a much more patient teacher than Rumil on days like this.) That was the brilliant thing about Aryo. He was far too new to being considered an adult to be properly good at it yet.

“So let’s go somewhere else,” his twin suggested.

“Where?” Artanis asked idly.

“Can we go visit your other grandparents?” Irissë asked, sitting up. “It might be this warm there too, but there we’d be able to  _ swim _ .”

They’d gotten too big to do more than wade and splash in the fountains and pools in the gardens. When they’d been smaller, the tiled pond in the Mingling Garden had been a serviceable swimming pool – to them, at least, the grownups had felt differently – but this summer it wasn’t ‘almost too small’ anymore.

Artanis considered the notion.

“Nobody’s going to say we can go to Alqualondë,” Ambarussa protested in unison.

By ‘nobody’, it was understood they meant all the parents involved collectively, but they were thinking of their father in particular.

“They can only say no if we  _ ask _ ,” Irissë pointed out reasonably. “If we just  _ go _ , we haven’t been told no.”

“It sounds like trouble anyway,” Artanis said thoughtfully – but it was clear that she liked the idea. 

“It’s definitely trouble,” Ambarussa said darkly.

“Don’t be such a scaredy rabbit,” Irissë sniffed. “All your brothers have been there, and one of them is living there, why shouldn’t you go?”

“I am  _ not _ a rabbit!” Ambarussa protested indignantly.

“So you’re coming, then?” Irissë asked sweetly.

Ambarussa and his brother both glared at her, but they were stuck for it now. If they didn’t go, they’d be rabbits in Irissë’s eyes for  _ at least _ the rest of the summer. If they did go, they were certain to get in trouble with their father – which might also last the rest of the summer.

But given the choice of Atto scolding them for taking too much interest in the Teleri or Irissë mocking them for cowardice indefinitely, it was an easy choice.

“Of course we’re coming,” Ambarussa snorted disdainfully. “Like we’d let you go by yourself.  _ You’d _ get lost halfway.”

“I wouldn’t be by myself, silly,” Irissë replied cheerfully. “I can’t very well go visit Artë’s other grandparents without her, can I?”

“You could, probably. They like you. But I want to go anyway,” Artanis answered. “And if we’re going to do it, we should go now, before anyone else comes out to check on us.”

“No one else knows we’re out here,” Ambarussa protested.

Artanis gave them a  _ look _ .

“Just because Aryo didn’t tell anyone who will make us go back in to Rumil doesn’t mean he didn’t tell  _ anyone _ ,” she said.

“Good point,” Irissë agreed. “Come on – if we go out the east gate, we won’t have as far to walk to the Alqualondë road.”

The other three followed her. The minor detail of the gate lock being out of their reach was easily dealt with by Ambarussa each lifting Irissë by one of her feet until she was high enough that she could work the catch. Happily, it was set to re-lock when it closed, so they didn’t need to worry the unlocked gate would give them away before they were far enough into their journey not to be stopped.

Artanis took the lead once they were outside the palace walls, and directed them confidently to the road she knew well from having travelled it so many times before, even if this was the first time it was her needing to know the way.

They were pleased to discover no one on the streets of Tirion seemed to take any notice of their youngest princes and princesses wandering the city unsupervised. (Close enough to the palace that they might be walking from their houses to their grandfather’s, this was reasonable. But the farther they ranged from the center of the city, the less reasonable it became.)

Once they were outside Tirion, they were in the clear. So it was not a pleasant surprise when half an hour down the road they ran into not one, but two of their older brothers coming the opposite direction – and absolutely nothing like a hiding place in sight.

Curvo and Ingo both looked startled to see them.

“Where under the stars do you think you’re going?” Curvo asked, giving his baby brothers a stern look that was uncomfortably close to their father when he was displeased with them.

“Grandfather’s!” Artanis answered at once.

Ambarussa didn’t quite hide behind her, but they did try their best to subtly work their way further from their brother.

“Artë,” Ingo began with a sigh, “you’re really too little to be out here on your own, you know that.”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” she protested. “Here we are, and I know the way – it’s simple, you just follow the road! And everyone else is allowed to. It’s not  _ fair _ .”

Ingo and Curvo traded glances.

“Did you at least tell anyone you were going?” Ingo asked.

Artanis and her co-conspirators tried not to grin as Curvo groaned. All five of them knew ‘did you tell anyone?’ was not the same as ‘no’.

“Ingo-”

“I can take them the rest of the way, Curvo. You should probably tell your mother where your brothers are to be found. Atto can tell Uncle Nolo or Aunt Anairë.”

“You’re going to get us  _ all _ in trouble for Artë’s stunt,” Curvo protested.

“It wasn’t  _ my _ idea,” Artanis told him.

“It was  _ mine!” _ Irissë exclaimed proudly.

“Good, make sure you tell everyone’s parents that,” Curvo snorted. “Because I guarantee they’re going to settle on it being Artë’s fault.”

“Oh. Then it might as well be,” Artanis shrugged. At Ambarussa’s dubious look, she added, “there’s no point to everyone being in trouble. But we still get to go, right?”

“No one will be in trouble,” Ingo sighed. “They’re technically not out alone – which Atto talked to you about once already, Artanis – so no harm done. And walking all the way to Alqualondë on their own legs might be good for them.”

The four youngest didn’t understand the grin that spread across Curvo’s face, but they did understand full well that it was being implied they wouldn’t manage the walk. Naturally that meant they were going to do it to prove that they could too.

_ No complaining at all!  _ Artanis told Ambarussa in an urgent mental whisper.  _ If you do, we’ll never get to go again! _

_ Or we’ll have to wait for adults older than Ingo to go with us, _ Irissë amended.  _ It’s so lucky it was just your brothers and not mine. _

_ That’s not luck, it’s ‘cause Turvo is in Valimar _ , Ambarussa pointed out sensibly.  _ How could he be on the Alqualondë road when he’s in the other direction? _

_ No complaining,  _ Artanis repeated firmly.  _ I’ll let my legs fall  _ off _ before I say anything. _

Ingo was giving all four of them a suspicious look.

“We remember the rule about speaking out loud when there’s something to say, right?” he prompted them.

“Of course, Cousin Ingo!” Irissë answered, smiling sweetly at him.

“On your head,” Curvo muttered, turning toward Tirion. “Enjoy your outing.”

Ingo gave him a wave, then gestured for his younger sister and cousins to start walking again.

The journey was great fun, especially since for once they weren’t being carried or taken in a cart or carriage. They could stop whenever something deserved further investigation, like bird nests or ant hills or curious plants.

It did seem to take a good deal more time than any of them had expected, though. Ambarussa had never been to Alqualondë themselves, but they knew their father sometimes went to visit their brother and went there and back in one day. But that was riding, not walking. All the same, they had a definite impression from Irissë and Artanis, who both visited regularly, that it didn’t usually take this long.

It was hard to tell, because the Treelight grew dimmer the further they got from Tirion, but it felt like it was dinnertime and past it before they saw the gates of Alqualondë. Even Ambarussa’s determination not to complain and not give either Ingo or Irissë grounds to crow about being right (with Irissë being the one they were more worried about) was beginning to waver.

Fortunately, Artanis brightened and exclaimed that she could see her grandfather waiting for them. The sideways glance at her brother warned them that was probably not luck either, but Olwë looked pleased to see them all the same.

“We did not expect you again so soon, endo! And we did not expect  _ you _ at all, my little lovelies!”

“Does that mean we have to go home again?” Artanis asked in disappointment.

“No, it just means we are curious. Fortunately, we are also sensible – your grandmother went to arrange a late supper once we spotted you, for I doubt you ate on the road?”

“No,” Ingo said. “This was a spontaneous journey, and an idea of mine that I do not think has quite worked as intended.”

_ Ha! We didn’t complain like he thought we would!  _ Irissë chortled triumphantly.  _ Which means now no one can say we are too little to make the trip ourselves! _

“Ah, well, you might as well come tell us about it before you head homeward,” Olwë chuckled. “And let us know how long we should expect to keep the little ones. Come along!”

“Thank you, Ciriáran,” Ambarussa said politely.

That got another chuckle.

“It’s hardly a state visit, boys, and your grandfather is a good friend of mine. Just Olu will do – and as I’ve already made the acquaintance of most of your brothers, I really do mean  _ just _ Olu, no Mister, Master, King, or sir.”

Ambarussa both goggled at the unheard-of notion of calling a grownup by nothing but their name. This was a very interesting day!

“Yes... Olu,” one of them managed to get out in an almost normal tone of voice.

“Hm. I think you may be the quickest of the lot – even your brother Curufinwë needed more than one try to manage that.”

Ambarussa both stood a bit straighter at that – with five older brothers, it wasn’t often they heard that they were original or best at anything.

By the time they reached Olwë’s house, he’d heard Ingo’s version of how they came to be in his city, and Artanis was protesting that it wasn’t the whole story. Her part of it had to wait until they had washed for dinner, though, because her grandmother Súyelírë didn’t care how they’d come to be there, they were  _ not _ sitting down with hands and faces still dusty from the road.

She did join Olu in saying that Ambarussa should call her by her name. But despite that, she wasn’t allowing talking with one’s mouth full, or taking big bites and swallowing them quickly to get to talk sooner, so Artanis didn’t get a chance to say much until they’d all had their fill of tasty barbequed mackerel and crisp salad.

Then she looked at them and announced she wanted to hear from her granddaughter how it was she came to be here with no one but her big brother before she’d rule on whether or not they deserved dessert.

Given the smell of berries and fresh pastry wafting in from the kitchens all four of her young guests were hoping as one that they were not in trouble.

“We were at my other grandfather’s,” Artanis began. “There was nothing to do and there was nowhere to swim. So I thought if we came here, we would find things to do and we’d be able to swim in the sea. Rumil wants to finish his book right now, so he won’t miss us needing lessons. Atto and Emmë are busy, and so are Irissë’s parents and Ambarussa’s. We can learn things here same as in Tirion, and not be in the way and bored.” 

She finished on a decidedly pitiful note that Irissë thought was a masterful touch.

“Mmm,” Súyelírë said thoughtfully as Ingo looked amused and the four younger children waited with baited breath. “And did you, my little sandpiper, at any point mention this fine plan to your Atto or Emmë  _ before _ you set out?”

“No,” Artanis said slowly. “They would have said I was too little to go on my own.”

“But she wasn’t on her own,” Irissë added earnestly. “We three were with her.”

“I don’t suppose you mentioned it to your parents either? Or to Finwë or Indis?”

Three slightly abashed looks answered as well as words.

“If you had, they would have told you your brothers were expected back at any moment, and you might well have had permission and someone to bring you. Though I suppose you have proved your point that ‘too little’ doesn’t quite apply anymore – Ingo tells me you walked the whole way yourselves, without once asking for a ride.”

“Yes,” Ambarussa said shyly but with a note of pride. “We did.”

Súyelírë gave her husband a look.

“I’m afraid the berry tart will have to wait until another night – you children all know perfectly well you shouldn’t have left Finwë’s house without telling at least one of your parents where you were going. If you hadn’t run into Ingo, your parents would have been terribly worried. But I think we will indulge your desire for a change of scene, at least for a day or two. Ingo can carry a letter back saying your parents may collect you whenever they deem it appropriate – and also that Ara and Eärwen should decide what further consequences there will be for little girls who drag their cousins into trouble with them.”

Irissë started to say something, but Artanis kicked her under the table.

_ Leave it,  _ she ordered _. They’ve already decided it was my fault, there’s no sense  _ everyone  _ getting in trouble. _

_ All our parents is an exaggeration,  _ Ambarussa observed silently. _ Atto wouldn’t even have noticed we were gone until Menelya at least. _

_ He would if Tyelko didn’t know to feed Haro and Rusco for you, _ Ingo surprised them all by saying.

“All right,” Artanis said aloud, with just the right touch of disappointment for the no dessert. “Can we be excused to play in the garden while you have dessert?”

Súyelírë sighed.

“I ought to tell you no, for it will stick in your mind better if you have to actually watch your brother enjoy the berry tart. But your cousins are guests, and one mustn’t be ungracious to guests. Mind you  _ stay _ in the garden, though, Artanis.”

“Yes, grandmother!”

Four not entirely chastened children made their escape swiftly enough to miss Olwë no longer able to hold back laughter.

“That didn’t go too badly,” Irissë said with relief when they reached the mercifully berry tart free air of the gardens.

“I don’t see why you had to say we could learn things here,” Ambarussa sighed. “That means we’ll have a different tutor.”

“No it doesn’t,” Artanis grinned. “It means tomorrow I’ll tell Grandfather you’ve never been sailing before, and he’ll take us out and start teaching you. You’ll see. It’ll be fun!”

“What about swimming?” Irissë asked hopefully.

“Tomorrow,” Artanis said confidently. “We’re already being punished with no dessert, but they won’t say anything else about it. Tomorrow will be  _ great _ .”


End file.
